Greatest of All Time
by HawkofNavarre
Summary: "It's good you came, Ryūzaki." In the end, she thinks so too. RyoSaku


**Note:** All usual disclaimers apply, of course.

I took a few liberties with some of the things in the tennis tournament (for example, I know juniors don't get to play on the major court, even during the finals), but bear with me. Contrary to the actual Prince of Tennis manga, I have kept the tennis in this fic as realistic as possible. This is probably not the fic for you if you don't actually enjoy watching/playing tennis.

This fic is _not_ full of fluff, but full of character and relationship (RyoSaku) development. Strap in if you're going to take this monster on.

 **Names of real tennis players have been altered for the purposes of this fic.**

Thanks to **Irradiance** for being my Chief Beta Reader Extraordinaire!

Please enjoy!

* * *

 _ **Greatest of All Time**_ by HawkofNavarre

* * *

Sakuno was wondering for the hundredth time how she ended up in New York when some tall, Caucasian teenage boy, who had come up to her, smirked and said something in English to her. She stared up at him in a mixture of confusion and terror. Her summer vacations were rarely spent travelling outside Japan, let alone with random males approaching her at the continental breakfast. It only made things worse that she couldn't understand what he was saying.

She was desperately racking her brain for any knowledge she had gained from English class, but she had always been terrible at the subject. She was still trying to figure out exactly what had been said to her when Ryoma sat down at the adjacent side of the table and replied for her. The stranger raised an eyebrow and walked away, much to Sakuno's relief.

"I thought you passed English last year," Ryoma said lazily, resting his chin on his hand as he forked into a peach slice. His plate contained a waffle drizzled in a bit of syrup and there was a bowl of canned peaches on the side. A separate container that obviously had not come from the hotel held a breast of chicken with pasta. She briefly wondered how he could eat all of that in addition to drinking the protein shake he had in front of him while flushing at his statement.

"I did," she replied defensively, omitting that she had barely scraped by in the subject as she tried to force the red from her cheeks. She had never quite gotten over her feelings for the tennis prodigy despite having known him for almost four years now. He was never really _mean_ , but he wasn't shy about shooting little quips her way either.

"Then what did that guy ask you?"

Her face burned, having no real answer to that question besides "I don't know." "He...he asked me what I was having for breakfast...?"

He smirked and she immediately knew she was wrong. However, he simply cut off a piece of his waffle, snickering, " _Mada mada dane,_ Ryūzaki."

Embarrassed, she sank into her seat and slowly nibbled at her bacon. None of this should have even happened. She was supposed to be at home, snuggled in her bed right now instead of up at half past six in the morning eating breakfast next to the friend she'd been in love with for years. Pretty much every girl at their school would kill to be here in her place, and Sakuno truly did always enjoy supporting Ryoma, but she was completely out of her element here. Ryoma was the only person around close to her age that spoke the same language and without Tomoka here with her, she felt even more like a fish out of water.

It wasn't as though this was Ryoma's first US Open. This was actually his fourth, and her grandmother always went down to New York with him to coach since it was during part of the summer break. Sakuno, in turn, would stay at Tomoka's place until her Sumire was home. Except...this year, Tomoka's family had gone on a vacation to Paris for the break and Sakuno was forced to come along with her grandmother. Tomoka had been ecstatic for her. Sakuno had just been terrified. And she was right to be, considering she'd ended up in the exact situation she was dreading. She was stuck in a foreign land with only Ryoma (who, when he wasn't busy with tennis, wasn't the greatest conversationalist) and a bunch of adults. It was her second year of high school! All she'd wanted was to spend the rest of summer with her friends!

Sakuno lamented silently through the rest of breakfast while Ryoma somehow shoveled all that food into his body. Half an hour later, she was getting treatment that she had never experienced before, being ushered into a caravan next to her grandmother and Ryoma and actually _escorted_ to the Billie Jean King National Tennis Center. Some guy none of them even knew had picked them up at the hotel and dropped them off where they needed to be _for free_. She was baffled. This had to be what celebrity life felt like.

Ryoma and her grandmother, of course, continued on about their day like there was nothing new about the treatment they were getting, so Sakuno did her best to pick her jaw up off the ground and continue after them. They headed to an empty practice court where Sakuno plopped herself down on a bench while the tennis prodigy began practicing his serves. Nanjirō arrived a few minutes later and she almost fell over in shock seeing that he was actually wearing something other than his usual lazy outfit. He didn't make any silly remarks as per his regular routine either and instead picked up a racket to go hit with Ryoma. The whole thing just made her more uncomfortable.

Grand Slams...were a big deal. She'd known that since she was twelve and had become interested in tennis, but knowing that and really experiencing the intensity of it all was a huge difference. They had been escorted to the tennis centre. She had to wear a pass around her neck to move about the grounds freely. Ryoma was drinking protein shakes instead of Fanta. _Echizen Nanjirō_ wasn't acting like a fool or lying around like a sloth. Grand Slams _were a big deal,_ and this was what Ryoma planned to do for the rest of his life.

Sakuno slumped in her spot, suddenly weary of her distinct lack of belonging.

* * *

It was later in the day that Ryoma had his first match. They were standing in the hallway close to the entrance of the court where Sumire and Nanjirō were chatting with Ryoma before he stepped out to play.

"He struggles with his backhand, so focus your shots there. And remember, don't—"

"Don't get overconfident. I know," Ryoma droned out in a bored tone. "Are you done yet? I want to play tennis."

Sumire frowned at his attitude and Sakuno wondered how he could possibly be so calm before such a huge match. This was the one of the biggest tournaments of the year and he didn't seem nervous at all.

"Aw, _seishounen_ 's beat this kid before. Save your preaching for the finals, hag," Nanjirō said carelessly, earning a glare from his former coach.

"He must get his ego from _you_ ," her grandmother shot back, but Ryoma looked absolutely disgusted at being compared to his father.

"I'm not gonna listen to this. I'm going," he stated as he turned to stalk off.

Sakuno blinked for a second, realizing she had just stood there the entire time without saying anything. If she was here, she was going to be here for him as she was during any other tennis match. Frustrated with herself, she rushed after him. "Ryoma-kun, wait!"

He did stop, turning and looking at her expectantly.

"I just wanted to say…good luck," she told him with a smile.

"Thanks," he replied, smirking, "but I won't need luck today."

As it turned out, he really _didn't_ need luck, because Ryoma crushed his opponent from Russia like a flimsy aluminum can. Watching tennis matches could be horribly stressful when you were emotionally involved, but this one hadn't made her worry at all. Ryoma had started on serve and immediately hit two aces, then smacked two more winners to finish the game. To lift the tension even further, his opponent double-faulted once, hit two unforced errors, and was stunned by yet another Ryoma winner to go down a break the second game of the match. The rest of the match continued in a similar manner until it was finally match point.

Sakuno glanced at the scoreboard—one of her favourite objects in the court considering she could actually _read_ it—which showed a pretty brutal match for the Russian. It showed 6-0, 6-2, and 5-1 in favour of Ryoma on the Russian's serve, and the hole was significantly deep at love to forty. Another unforced error ended the match as Sakuno jumped up in excitement, clapping her hands together.

"He won! Are we going to go celebrate, Obaa-san?" she asked her grandmother, beaming. If there was anything she was looking forward to in New York, it was trying out their diverse foods.

"Sorry, Sakuno, but we're here for the tournament and we have to focus on it. Ryoma's got to get to the ice baths," Sumire replied as she stood from her seat and began to head out of the stands.

Sakuno looked up in confusion. "Ice baths…?"

"Ah, the ice baths! I want to sneak into the women's side and watch," Nanjirō sighed quietly from behind her. Sakuno cringed as she saw the expression on his face, similar to the one he had whenever he was looking at his magazines.

Evidently, he hadn't been quiet enough as Rinko smacked him in the head ruthlessly, making her husband yelp. "You will do no such thing!" The harshness on her face disappeared as quickly as it came. "We're going back to the hotel before dinner if you want to come with us, Sakuno-chan."

She contemplated the offer for a moment, but decided that being secluded in a room away from everything that was foreign to her was not going to make this trip any easier. "No thank you, Rinko-san. I want to see what the ice baths look like."

"Good. Just stay with Ryoma while I go scope out his next match. He knows what to do," her grandmother told her, patting her on the shoulder.

Sakuno nodded and quickly scurried off into the huge building. She found Ryoma waiting at the end of the hallway from the court, looking bored.

"Where's coach?" he asked, wiping his forehead briefly on the sweatband around his wrist.

"She said she was going to scout the competition," Sakuno reported as she rocked back on her heels. "You're going to the ice baths, right? I want to see them."

Ryoma raised an eyebrow at her. "You want to see a bunch of bathtubs filled with ice," the tennis prodigy stated as if the idea was dumb. She blushed and nodded. Well, of _course_ it sounded stupid to _him_! He wasn't the one walking around in a foreign land!

After a moment, he shrugged. "Alright."

He walked off after that, Sakuno quick to follow considering there was pretty much nobody else around that she was familiar with. As she continued after him, she glanced around, wondering how all these people could act so easily like they just _belonged_ in this huge stadium that was only used for one of the biggest tennis events of the year. A few extremely famous players she spotted passing by were surrounded by a bunch of very intense-looking people, and even the ones that weren't quite as famous still had a lot of people with them.

"Ryūzaki, hurry up," came Ryoma's voice, pulling her from her stupor. Mumbling an apology, she jogged to catch up with him and put the crowd out of her head.

When they got to the ice baths, Sakuno wasn't really sure how she was supposed to react. It was as anticlimactic as Ryoma had indicated. The room was literally just a few single person pools filled with ice and water. She realized she shouldn't have expected more, but for some reason, she was a little disappointed. However, she went from feeling disappointed to embarrassed when Ryoma didn't even bother changing and just stripped his shirt off before walking into a vacant bath. Her mouth flapped a bit at his actions as he rolled his eyes.

"Relax, Ryūzaki. It's fine to go in right after a match. They clean these," he pointed out as if reading her mind. He sat down in the bath with barely a flinch, which possibly caught her even more off-guard than his intuition did.

She didn't say another word, feeling awkward, and sat down on the small bench beside the bath. She glanced off to the side where another male junior player was sitting with his coach and trainer. From his features, he appeared to be Korean—maybe the one on Ryoma's side of the draw. Inwardly, she sighed. Yet another person here with his team and Ryoma just had _her_. Sure, she was a regular on the girl's tennis team this year, but she was nowhere close to being in the same league as anyone who was playing in a Grand Slam. It didn't feel right to be here, to be the one sitting with Ryoma. She didn't _belong_ here.

"What's with you today?" Ryoma asked her abruptly, causing her to jump in her seat. Her eyes were directed back at him for a moment and suddenly, the awareness that Ryoma was sitting there shirtless in front of her hit her like a ton of bricks. Stubbornly, she maintained her composure even as she blushed for what seemed like the millionth time that day. She was sixteen, damn it! Not twelve anymore!

"I'm fine," she replied after a moment, trying to look nonchalant.

"You've been quieter than usual since we got to the tennis center," he shot back. "You can lie if you want, but I know you."

It was his roundabout way of telling her he'd know if she lied, but wouldn't push any further. That was just the way Ryoma was: entirely too perceptive, but indifferent enough not to pry. She struggled to figure out how to respond.

However, he didn't wait for her reply. "If you don't want to be here, you can always just go."

"No!" she protested hastily, immediately hating that her feelings for Ryoma bled through so easily all the time when she was flustered. She could've easily just replied to him like a normal person, but of course her nerves only allowed her to be capable of rushed and poorly thought-out answers. "I... That's not it at all..."

"Then what is it exactly?" Ryoma asked, his piercing eyes on her.

"It's just..." It was hard to spit this out to Ryoma. Yes, they'd known each other for a while now, but when they were together, they didn't talk about _feelings_. He, for one, didn't really talk about that kind of thing. Sure, his feelings for tennis were so strong that she could almost always tell what he was thinking before a match. He'd even come to her a few times seeking a distraction when there was something heavy weighing on his mind although she never asked him what it was. He teased her sometimes and helped her with her English homework on occasion; she asked him for help on her serve and made him lunch a few times as a "thank you." They had a good dynamic that didn't go too deep on either side, despite how she felt for him, but here he was, asking her for her feelings.

She swallowed one last time before letting her resolve push her forward. "Everyone back here with the players...everyone has a purpose. Your parents are here because they're your family and my grandma is here because she's your coach, but I'm only here because I couldn't stay home alone for the summer."

Ryoma was silent for a moment, still staring at her. "So you _don't_ want to be here," he clarified and Sakuno genuinely could not tell if he was insulted or apathetic by that notion.

"Well...it wasn't my first choice for summer vacation," she admitted.

He grew quiet again and Sakuno was suddenly terrified that she'd offended him because he was missing a lot of context right now. What she had said sounded like she just didn't want to come and watch him play, which was the last thing she wanted him to think. They were friends and she really, really liked him, but romance was generally the furthest thing from her mind when it came to Ryoma, considering his own mind was preoccupied with tennis, Fanta, and his cat. She still _cared_ , though, and didn't want him to think otherwise.

Quickly, she attempted to explain herself. "Ryoma-kun, I just mean—"

"You didn't understand a word that guy was saying this morning," he cut in, seemingly talking more to himself than to her. He was right, but Sakuno really had no idea what that statement had to do with anything. "And now think you don't belong here."

At that point, Sakuno was kind of a loss about where he was going with this and couldn't figure out what to say.

"What's something I did well this match?" Ryoma asked her expectantly and she stared at him with wide eyes. This conversation whiplash was making her crazy.

She'd seen him play numerous times, watching his matches when she wasn't practicing or playing tennis herself. He was the type of player that only had weaknesses if his opponent had a weapon to create one. This last match was far from an example of that, considering how Ryoma had administered such a devastating smack down to the Russian in just over an hour.

"You... You adjusted your footing really well for your backhand down the line. It was the only baseline shot you didn't hit an error on," she answered after a few thoughtful seconds.

He nodded. "And what do I need to work on?"

This one was easier because she'd noticed it throughout the match. "You kept going for the 'T' on most of your serves because he had trouble with it, but even though he was having trouble with it, your serve direction got predictable."

Ryoma broke out into a chuckle as he stood from the bath, heading out of the freezing water. He'd been sitting in there for about ten minutes and she still couldn't fathom how he could tolerate the temperature at all. She looked at him quizzically as she handed him a towel. He dried off and pulled on a clean shirt that he'd grabbed from his bag before throwing it over his shoulder and leaning in far too close to her.

He had a good five inches over her now—something that she didn't tend to think much about in general, but was something she had become _very_ aware of in such close proximity. She had instinctively leaned away from him and still got caught in his eyes. Her heart raced as fast as her brain was trying to process _what the hell was going on._

He smirked. "You _are_ a part of my team, even if your English is pathetic," he stated, flicking her nose before he spun around and walked towards the exit.

* * *

The day of the second round, Sakuno did her absolute best not to think about what had happened the day before. If Ryoma had been flirting with her, whether intentionally or unintentionally, she didn't want to know. It certainly felt like he had been, but she'd never really been on the receiving end of a male's flirtations anyway, so she couldn't say for sure. Either way, it was simply too mind boggling to think about, so she pushed it out of her mind.

She did, however, feel a lot more at ease at the courts today. Ryoma making a point to let her know that she was part of his team somehow breathed new life into her. She hadn't thought she served any purpose there other than to be an unhelpful lost foreigner who was there to watch her friend play when he hadn't even asked her come. Now, although it was her grandmother who was the coach, Sakuno took care to make note of Ryoma's strongest and weakest points during the match. By asking her that yesterday, it almost felt like he was issuing her a challenge. As even the least important part of his team, she took it seriously.

Ryoma's second match was almost as much of a breeze as the first. Not quite as much, but it was certainly getting there. Although winners weren't coming as easily, Ryoma's Australian opponent was dumping a lot of his shots into the net. The young male also couldn't keep his composure and was audibly shouting expletives at himself. The foul language rolled off Ryoma like a bead of sweat, showing no signs of even hearing the cursing. Sakuno smiled at this. It was just like him to completely ignore the other party. His own self-assurance was always good enough. She watched calmly as one set turned into two and two sets turned into three. Ryoma won the match with a gracefully executed crosscourt volley that his opponent obviously hadn't expected.

What occurred after was almost exactly the same as the events following his first round match. Rinko didn't stay for much longer than to congratulate her son before dragging her husband off with her before he could leave to peep around the grounds. With his match being earlier today, her grandmother had actually thrown a few criticisms and a "good job" at Ryoma and then rushed off to get his lunch prepared. This time, Sakuno ended up being _left_ with Ryoma, dumbly standing in the hallway.

"You coming or what?" he asked her pointedly as he began to walk, snapping her out of her stupor.

"O-oh! Yes!" Sakuno replied, hastily scurrying after him.

She ignored all thoughts of yesterday's possible flirtation when he took off his shirt at the ice baths again, silently cursing him for being handsome and cursing herself for letting her heart skip a beat just because it was _Ryoma_. Annoyed with herself, she plopped herself down on the bench again and fiddled with one of her braids.

"My strength this match," his voice cut into her frustrated thoughts, "what was it?"

"Your serve," she said automatically, prepared. "You listened. You kept him guessing on your serve, especially between first and second serves."

Ryoma grinned arrogantly, as if he knew he had absolutely blown away the mistake she'd pointed out the day before. "And to work on?"

"Net approaches. You could beat him on the baseline, but he wouldn't have had a chance if you came up to the net more often."

His grin widened, looking as if she had just challenged him. She couldn't help but smile in return. " _Good_."

Sakuno quickly found that it was turning into a game. The next day was a break for Ryoma, but he seemed to be practicing his net shots even more than usual at hitting practice. Nanjirō didn't seem to care about what Ryoma wanted to focus on and her grandmother actually thought that Ryoma was smart for focusing on his net shots.

"Your next opponent is an extremely strong defensive player. The longer you rally, the better the chance he'll have of controlling the point. Winning points at the net will let you end points more quickly, but they have to be good shots, because that boy can _run_ ," Sumire had advised him, and then proceeded to support a practice full of drop shots, volleys, and passing shots. Sakuno had been amazed to see just how frustrated Ryoma had gotten trying to get good passing shots past his father. Nanjirō, on the other hand, had been having the time of his life, taunting his son (" _Made made dana, seishounen_!") and actually returning a good portion of the shots. If she hadn't known exactly who Nanjirō was, Sakuno would have been absolutely taken aback by the level of skill the man was showing. It was still kind of boggling, considering her general mental image of him was of a lazy man lounging around in his _yukata_ reading dirty magazines.

Of course, regardless of what his general habits were, Nanjirō was still a legendary tennis player whose expertise had gotten his son prepared for the match. Ryoma actually dropped the first set with a close 7-5 score, being a little overly aggressive with his net approaches and getting used to his opponent's style of game. However, being the genius he was, he made little adjustments to his game in the second set to adapt to the Spaniard's defensive style and suddenly, practically every net approach resulted in a winner or a point. Passing shots were going by his opponent like bullets, and Sakuno realized that if Nanjirō had taken it easy on his son during practice, these shots wouldn't be nearly as lethal.

The Spaniard fell in four sets, and Sakuno found herself once again sitting on the bench in the room with the ice baths. She was getting used to having a shirtless Ryoma nearby and found that she wasn't feeling nearly as embarrassed as she had when she'd come in here the first time.

"You're only three matches away from being the champion," she stated cheerfully, letting her legs swing lightly under the bench.

"One match at a time," he retorted as he shook his head at her optimism, but she could tell he didn't mind that she was looking that far ahead at all.

"You took the time you needed to adjust to his game. Even if it cost you the set, it won you the match," Sakuno complimented him. The smirk on his face let her know that he didn't actually need to hear that because he already knew. She didn't wait for him to say anything and continued in what was turning into regular post match feedback. "I think you could have gone after his serve more, especially on the second serve. You didn't punish him enough and got into more rallies than you needed to."

This time, she _was_ waiting for a reply, but looked down at him when she didn't get one. He was looking at her with a contemplative expression and she could feel the heat begin to creep up her face as the seconds ticked by.

"What?" she demanded, embarrassed yet again—a feeling she thought she'd escaped.

He chuckled at her reaction. Sakuno despaired at being so transparent all the time. This was why he could tease her so easily. She braced herself for a comment on her critiques, but it never came.

Instead, Ryoma just casually said, "It's good you came, Ryūzaki."

And somehow, that declaration was so much worse.

* * *

 _He's not supposed to say things like that,_ she reflected as she waited for Ryoma's quarterfinal match to start. The best she used to get from him was a "thank you" for something nice she'd done. Homemade bento? Picking up his homework for him on sick days? Pulling him out of a funk? All of those had been "thank you"s. They had been friends for a long time now, and not a lot had changed between them. Sometimes he walked her home from school after a late tennis practice, but she wasn't disillusioned enough to think that meant anything more than _friendship_. Ryoma had a one-track mind that was always focused on tennis. Why else would he have said something other than "thank you" only when it had to do with her criticizing his technique?

She was over-thinking this. If she had ever said the exact same thing to him, Ryoma would've just accepted it and moved on. In no universe would he ever be sitting and ruminating over a statement that simply relayed gratitude. After all, a whole day had passed since then with nothing at all being different between them. Constantly reflecting on these things would be pointless. What she was doing was _pointless._ What she had to remember was that love was just a tennis term. Besides, she was only sixteen! Maybe her best friend and the other girls her age were hung up on dating boys and everything, but she didn't feel like having an active love life was necessary at the moment anyway.

He was warming up on the court now with his opponent who Sakuno recognized as the Korean boy she had seen in the ice baths the day of Ryoma's first match. He was also left-handed, she realized, as they exchanged casual forehand shots. It would be interesting to see how Ryoma played against someone with the same dominant arm. She'd initially had trouble adjusting to left-handed players herself due to the spin going in the opposite direction, but it was actually something that Ryoma had helped her with. He was a good friend. Yes, just a friend...

All thoughts of her heart flew out the window when the match started. Right away, she could tell that this match was going to be terribly even. The rallies started off long and a 30-0 score for Ryoma quickly changed into a deuce. He managed to hit two aces to dig him out of the potential breakpoint hole, but Sakuno began to worry that _every_ game was going to be this much of a struggle.

The tension only rose higher as each game was played with intense baseline rallies where points were ridiculously close. It was comforting that Ryoma wasn't the only one that was feeling the pressure on his service games, but the set came down to a tiebreaker and Sakuno could barely breathe even though this was only the first set. They were both all-around good players with their strengths and weaknesses offsetting the other's. Ryoma had a better forehand, but the Korean player had a slightly better backhand.

By the time it hit 10-10 in the tiebreak, Sakuno thought she was going to explode from the anxiety of watching this match. This tiebreak was going to make-or-break the match for the players involved and she could only hope that Ryoma came out on top. One mini-break. That was all he needed to take the set and blow out the rest of the match.

Ryoma's serve. He faulted the first, but hit a pretty decent second out wide that moved the Korean off the court. The next shot was textbook, a backhand winner into the opposite corner of the court. 11-10. It was the fifth chance he'd get to close out the set.

 _Do it here, Ryoma-kun. I know you can!_ she thought, her fists clenched tightly in front of her.

He wasn't lucky, because the Korean hit a great first serve down the tee that he barely got to in time. The return, however, landed closer to the back of the court than the Korean anticipated and he had to scramble back in order to hit a half-decent forehand. Ryoma returned with a drop shot which led into the most amazing net rally that Sakuno had ever seen in person that lasted six shots before her friend stretched forward with maximum effort to hit a passing shot on the run.

...Winner.

The relatively small crowd, as it was with junior matches, erupted into cheers just as she did while the umpire droned out the set score overhead. Sakuno beamed, knowing that unless something seriously changed within the next hour or so, Ryoma would be the victor of this match. Sitting beside her, her grandmother was nodding slightly, which seemed to echo similar thoughts. She was unsurprised to see the next set breeze by in less than 25 minutes with the Korean clearly frustrated with everything. The third set was a little closer and ended with Ryoma closing it out 6-4, and no matter the turnaround his opponent was pulling off, that finished off the match. It was no wonder that when she met him in the hallway 20 minutes later, he was looking particularly smug.

"You might have won in straight sets, but that was an amazing match, Ryoma-kun," Sakuno told him truthfully. The anticipation of whether or not his Korean opponent would be able to make a comeback in the second and third set had certainly put her on edge. With all those amazing returns, however, Ryoma had continuously put her anxieties to rest.

"I know," was his simple reply.

She accompanied him to the ice baths again as had become tradition for this year's US Open in content silence. Even her crazy, frantic thoughts were muted in the presence of his confidence since she was far more interested in delivering her next report rather than wondering if his words had any deeper meaning behind them. Thus, she found herself happily chattering along about how great the placement of his crosscourt forehand was and how he had shied away from more net plays. She found herself chirping on further in the ice baths about her favourite points while Ryoma nodded along, occasionally inserting his explanation of his playing decisions.

"You know, four years ago, you couldn't even hit a tennis ball. Now you're just a huge nerd," Ryoma stated, laughing at her excitement over the match.

"I'd only just started then," she replied defensively, swinging her feet under the bench and trying to keep from feeling embarrassed. Ryoma always teased her, evidently even when she actually knew what she was talking about.

"Imagine how good your English would be right now if you'd applied the same dedication," he continued and Sakuno chucked his discarded, sweaty armband at his head. He dodged it with a grin. "Then you might have actually known what that American said to you at breakfast a few days ago."

"Well, what _did_ he say?" she asked as if to challenge him.

"He asked if you were with anybody," Ryoma answered casually. She stared at him blankly and he rolled his eyes. "He was _flirting_ with you, Ryūzaki."

Oh. _Oh._ Okay, _now_ she understood. "With anybody," as in with another man. "And what did you tell him?" she pressed nervously.

He shrugged. "That you were with me."

Sakuno's mouth dropped open in horror. So then he'd just insinuated that they were—that they—that he—when they didn't— _what...?_ "Ryoma-kun!" she squeaked. "You let him think that we were...?"

"What does it matter? It's not like you'll ever see him again," he replied, rising to get out of the bath.

But it _did_ matter. Maybe not to Ryoma, but for Sakuno, all these mixed signals (if she was even correctly interpreting them in the first place) were causing her to question the nature of her relationship with Ryoma over and over again, and that was a hard thing to keep doing for a girl who was basically in love. He had given her a place at his side for the tournament like she'd needed, but there were really only two days left of that. Then what? Go back to the way there were before and act like they hadn't bonded over this experience? Convince herself that her feelings hadn't gone any deeper?

Her conflict over the issue made her feel silly. Only days ago, her primary concern had been finding a sense of belonging while she was in New York. Her feelings for Ryoma had been buried in the crevices of her mind and she'd had no expectations; now it was like he was unintentionally fishing them to the surface with no effort at all. It was stupid. She knew it was stupid, because in three days, when the US Open was over and they were on their way back to Japan, everything would go back to the way it was and she could ignore whatever feelings she had for her friend.

* * *

Sakuno often stopped paying attention to anything and everything else when she was absorbed in a tennis match. This semi-final match? She practically forgot that anything else even _existed._

If she had thought the last match was intense, she didn't even know how to describe this one. She could barely breathe with every point Ryoma played and she felt absolutely nauseated whenever his opponent got even remotely close to a break point. She felt sick to her stomach and yet she still couldn't tear her eyes away. Ryoma was fighting this match with everything he had, so she had to stick with him.

It...wasn't looking good. They were already in the third set and Ryoma was down two sets to love, struggling to hold serve at 4-5. The match was so close to being over that Sakuno even felt her own faith in Ryoma shaking. She had never thought it was impossible for him to lose—after all, she'd seen it a bunch of times. It was just that she'd really thought this was the year for him to rise above all his peers. He had made it this far last year and lost; Ryoma was not the type of person to trip twice at the same hurdle.

 _And he's not going to. He won't,_ she told herself as her friend managed to even the score to a deuce. Good. At least he wasn't facing down a match point anymore. He just needed to hold on to this game and then figure out how to beat this guy down.

Sakuno could see the problem pretty clearly, but Ryoma was the one out there on the court, and that was a lot different from sitting on the sideline as an observer. He had never played this Spaniard before, which in itself made things a lot more difficult for Ryoma. However, it was the Spaniard's style of play that was making trouble for Ryoma. He had a rather unorthodox style compared to other tennis players who enjoyed getting into a rhythm to take control of the match. This player revelled in mixing up his _own_ rhythm, thereby making his own shot decisions unpredictable and disrupting his opponent's rhythm as well. Ryoma's footwork was always amazing, but his shot timing was off and was leading to a lot of unforced errors. He'd take the ball too early or too late and it led to him losing the point.

Ryoma served an ace, managing to obtain the advantage from the third deuce of this game. He only needed one more point to hold, and though she was a relatively large distance away, she could tell by his body language that this was the point he was absolutely determined to put away. He went through his usual routine of setting up before a serve, hitting the net with the first, but landing a good second at the back corner of the service box. The Spaniard responded with a well-placed lob that landed beautifully on the baseline, but Ryoma was already adjusting to the shot. He _knew_ what the problem was and he was ready to fix it now.

The angle he got off that shot could only be described as impressive. There was no way for his opponent to get there on time and the score was levelled at 5-5. Sakuno jumped out of her seat and cheered louder than she had for the entire match, knowing this was his breakthrough point. Once Ryoma learned, the lesson didn't have to be reinforced.

From that moment on, Ryoma dictated the rhythm of the points. He didn't let the unpredictability of the shots coming from the other side of the net deter him. In fact, he won the rest of the set without dropping a point in the short span of five minutes. This was it. This was the turnaround. One set down, two to go.

Sakuno smiled to herself. He might still be down a set, but Ryoma was going to win.

Two sets later, she could hear the people around her in awe of what had just taken place in front of them. Comebacks from a match where the player was down two sets to love were uncommon and rarely so drastic. The scoreboard read 4-6, 3-6, 7-5, 6-1, 6-2, a beautiful sight when she remembered how nauseated she had been feeling about an hour and a half earlier.

"I almost thought he had you there, _seishounen_!" Nanjirō laughed as they met up in the hallway, patting his son on the back.

"It really was quite the match," Sumire added, looking just as exhausted from watching the whole ordeal as Sakuno felt. "You should've seen Sakuno. I've never heard her shout louder than she did when you held serve at 5-5."

Sakuno blushed. Had she really been that loud?

"I know. I could hear her," Ryoma replied, looking at her with a smirk.

Oh crap, she really _had_ been that loud.

"Well, you two hurry and head over to the ice baths. I'll meet you at the gym afterwards for a good stretch," her grandmother instructed them.

With that, Rinko congratulated her son and dragged her husband off as usual as all three of them disappeared down the hallway, and Sakuno spent their entire walk to the ice baths trying to figure out how it became the norm to leave her with Ryoma after a match. She didn't care about the implications of that, realizing that win or lose, she would only be making this walk with Ryoma one more time after today.

The trek to the ice baths, however, was a lot quieter than usual. Despite winning, Ryoma didn't seem happy at all even though he had been teasing her earlier. She kept quiet under his tension and simply followed him to the room, letting him go about his business in getting into a bath. As time dragged on, she glanced around the room awkwardly, not really sure whether she should attempt a conversation or not. Silence was fine between them, but the atmosphere was making what was usually a comfortable silence into an _uncomfortable_ silence. Sakuno wondered if she should launch into her expected spiel when Ryoma predictably broke into her thoughts.

"I let him take over the rhythm, and I let him do it for almost three sets," he said flatly, pointing out his biggest error in the match on his own. "I don't want you to tell me that because I knew it and it was stupid of me to let it go on for as long as I did."

Ryoma's eyes narrowed, jaw clenched and crossing his arms in the frigid water. "I let it get to me. I let myself get frustrated. It was only when I was really in danger of losing the match that I realized I couldn't keep going on the way that I was. Then I knew what I had to do."

Well, that covered it all. It was pretty clear that he had calmed down after that, allowing him to turn the match around. However, if he was saying that all for himself, Sakuno had no idea what she should be doing in turn. He was staring hard into the water and she realized that there was something more bothering him than just barely pulling through the match. He wasn't the type to dwell after overcoming an obstacle.

"Ryoma-kun, you're in the final, so what's the problem?" she asked, hoping that she wasn't overstepping by doing so.

The male grimaced. "If I play like that tomorrow, it won't be enough."

She blinked, being rather familiar with the player he was up against tomorrow. It was the same boy that had taken him out of the tournament last year in the semi-finals—the reason Ryoma hadn't made it this far back then. Of course, she hadn't been present during last year's US Open, but the match had aired in Japan before the adult singles semi-finals. She and Tomoka had sat together, glued in front of the TV for the entirety of it until Ryoma's loss in the fourth set. Thinking back on that, it was clear why Ryoma was disappointed in himself today.

That loss last year hadn't been because of a mistake or a mental breakage. He hadn't done anything _wrong_ in that match that led to his loss; his opponent had just been _better_ than him. She knew that Ryoma would have to play his best tomorrow or he had no chance of winning the championship, and today had certainly not been his best.

Had it been anybody else, she might not have known the words to say, but this was Ryoma, and he didn't need comforting and coddling to help him move forward.

"Then...play the way you know you're capable of," Sakuno stated firmly. "You're better than you were last year. Prove it."

Ryoma's mouth formed a hard line in determination, the reaction she knew she would get from such a comment. "I will."

* * *

Arthur Ashe Stadium was already buzzing with thousands of people when Sakuno entered Ryoma's box with her grandmother and Ryoma's family. She had never been in such a huge stadium in her life, with rows upon rows of seats almost as far as the eye could see. She couldn't even believe how close she would be sitting to watch this match compared to all those others who would be filling up the remaining seats. She could barely fathom what this place would look like full.

Ryoga, who had flown in last night to watch his brother's match, was sitting next to her. Sakuno didn't know him very well and she had only met him a handful of times, but she knew the fact he was here was kind of a big deal. According to her grandmother, he had been training in Barcelona to get back on the pro circuit next year after recovering from an adductor injury. He had otherwise qualified for a few Grand Slams over the last couple of years and was slowly but surely making his way up through the world rankings. Having him next to her was a little intimidating, although she tried to ignore the feeling.

"So I hear you've been keeping _chibisuke_ in line," Ryoga said casually as the two players were warming up on the court.

"Um, not really..." Sakuno replied, unsure of how to reply to that comment. She may have had some valuable input by Ryoma's standards, but she didn't feel like she had done anything special over the last week.

"Give yourself some credit! _Chibisuke_ can really let his confidence go to his head sometimes. It's good even if you're just there to kick him down a notch," the older male assured her kindly. "Besides, he's ready this year. I can see it."

"Ready for what...?" she asked as she looked down at Ryoma's calm form on the court, rallying left-handed backhands to his opponent's right-handed forehand at the moment.

"To win," Ryoga stated.

She glanced at Ryoga for a moment, then turned her attention back to the court, contemplating his half-brother's words. She couldn't see how the Ryoma playing in front of her was any different from the Ryoma that had been in the ice baths yesterday. He was always driven and determined, wanting to be better. But maybe it was just a something that could be seen between brothers. Or maybe it was because Ryoga hadn't seen Ryoma in months and she was with him nearly every day. Regardless, she did agree with his assessment. Ryoma was ready to win and she had prepared accordingly for the anticipation of his win.

The coin toss had gone to Ryoma's opponent, the now eighteen-year-old French male who had beaten him last year. He had chosen to serve and the match was now underway, with both boys stepping up to opposing baselines. The stadium was silent and Sakuno felt even more anxious than she had been during the last match. Taking deep breaths, she clutched the front of her shorts in an attempt to channel the stress out of her body.

The first set was rather evenly matched, which was terrible for her nerves because it dragged on for so long. The hard-fought set was won by the Frenchman at 7-5 and Sakuno reflected on last year's match when Ryoma had just been _outplayed_ by this male. The first set had been lost for that very reason, and if things went on like this, the results would be the same as last year. She stared down in confidence at Ryoma's back as he sat at his bench taking a sip of an electrolyte drink. The umpire called time and Ryoma stood up with his racket and towel, glancing at his box as he strode by.

For a second, they made eye contact. _You can do this, Ryoma-kun. You can do this,_ she cheered him on silently with her most determined expression and he responded with the slightest of nods as though he had heard her.

The momentum swung in the second set with Ryoma breaking his opponent in the very first game of the set. He was taking more chances and it was paying off, forcing the Frenchman to make more mistakes than he had in the previous set. However, after the first game, there were no further breaks of serve and the set ended 6-4 for Ryoma. Sakuno let out a breath of relief, but it was too early to say that he had won. With the sets tied up, there was no telling which way the match would go.

The third set led to some stellar tennis from both players, exchanging four breaks of serve in total and probably the best rallies that Sakuno had seen all tournament. She had told Ryoma to prove that he was better than he had been a year ago and he was making sure he did just that, keeping on equal footing against the player that had taken him down a year ago. The set peaked in a tiebreak that was even more intense than the rest of the set itself had been. Any mini-breaks were lost immediately as the score number climbed into the tens until the set tipped on a winner on a shot that was just too good. Ryoma's head whipped around as he watched the crosscourt forehand whiz by him at a ridiculous angle.

The third set went to the Frenchman.

Sakuno sucked in a breath. He'd been in worse situations. He could conquer it.

She watched him walking across the court to his seat, observing his body language. He looked cool and collected, despite being behind and the blazing 31 degree Celsius weather. She could see that he wasn't worried. Even from this far, she could still see his resolve to win shining through. His family around her was silent and she wondered if they could see it too.

Even if nobody else could see what she could, Ryoma damn well _showed_ everyone his intention to win in the fourth set. He outplayed his opponent in virtually every way, taking absolute control over the court with minimal errors. _This_ was his best tennis, and he took the set 6-1 with barely a protestation.

The Frenchman clawed back in the final set of the match, refusing to go down without a fight. It was magnificent and terrifying at the same time, never knowing whose side the momentum was on. Both players were hitting some excellent winners, Ryoma doing particularly well on his serve and volleys and the Frenchman on his backhands down the line. She hadn't been keeping track of unforced errors or anything, but she was pretty sure they were almost dead even in numbers when it came to statistics.

At 4-5, it was the Frenchman's serve. He missed his first and Ryoma jumped on the second, crushing a winner to the back corner of the court. The crowd cheered, but Sakuno leaned over, hands balled together in front of her in anxiousness with her elbows on her thighs. She yearned for the match to end, unsure of how she had even made it this far without tearing her eyes away from big points. The tennis was excellent and everyone watching was entertained, but she wanted Ryoma to win so badly that her heart felt like it was lodged in her throat every time he lost a point.

The start of the next point was a first serve ace, evening out the score yet again. Although it probably wouldn't affect anything, she repeatedly muttered words of encouragement that there was no way of him hearing. She exhaled sharply as she watched him fault the next first serve, hoping the following one would be something Ryoma could take advantage of. However, the serve came down well and the best Ryoma could do was play it to the center of the court. It almost looked like the start of a rally when the Frenchman returned it, but Ryoma counterattacked with a brilliant drop shot that effectively ended the point. The next point was even shorter with a very unfortunate double fault—only the fourth of the entire match, giving Ryoma a double break point.

A double break point. Two _match points_.

This could be it. Sakuno watched in anticipation, mesmerized by the scene in front of her. She wiped her sweaty palms on her shorts as the next serve went off. Another ace, but still one more chance.

The cries around her didn't settle down as they normally would. With a match point on the line, the cheers from the audience came for both sides even though juniors players were relatively unknown by the general population. People had come here to see some good tennis and they just wanted more. They didn't care who won, but she did.

Then it happened. It wasn't the nicest point of the match—in fact, it was kind of anticlimactic—but it was a point. The first serve came off and Ryoma got a decent return back. One poorly adjusted shot later and the tennis ball tanked into the net. Suddenly, it was all over.

It felt like she was the first one to get to her feet, screaming in pure ecstasy for her friend's accomplishment. She watched as Ryoma acted in his typical Ryoma-like manner, just standing in the middle of the court as he removed his hat and smiled towards the sky. He didn't fall down or fling his racket or start jumping up and down despite winning his biggest tournament ever. He was calm, composed and...just _happy._

After a few seconds, he put his hat back on and walked over to the net where his opponent was waiting. They shook hands, then shook hands with the umpire before Ryoma walked back to the middle of the court, holding the neck of his racket and raising it into the air as he basked in the loud cheers of the audience. Maybe they weren't people who had really been here to see him, but he'd shown them a good match and he was being rewarded for it.

* * *

She had to wait in the hallway for longer than usual for Ryoma to show up after the trophy ceremony. He'd been awarded a very shiny plate, then had to do a short speech and a few interviews in English. Obviously, Sakuno understood basically none of it and so waited for Ryoma as she usually did. When he finally approached her, having left his award with his mom, he was wearing a very self-satisfied smirk on his face.

"Congratulations, Ryoma-kun!" Sakuno chirped in greeting. "You played really well!"

"Heh, I know," he replied as he took his cap off his head again and ran a hand through his hair. "But this is just the beginning."

She was unbelievably happy to see the content look on his face that came with reaching a huge goal of his, knowing that there was still much more to come. He had only conquered the US Open, which was the only major he attended every year thus far. There were still three to go. Still, she wondered if it was normal to feel this good about something she hadn't even accomplished herself. Just watching him and knowing that his hard work had paid off made her feel like she had reached a goal of her own, which she clearly hadn't. All she'd done was sit in his player box and cheer him on.

It wasn't something to dwell on, though, when they were making their last walk down these corridors to the ice baths together. Sakuno simply wanted to live in the moment, telling Ryoma about how excited she'd been at certain points of the match and how absolutely sick she felt whenever he was facing a break point. He listened in mostly silence for the entire time, both of them enjoying something that had become so familiar to them in the last nine days.

She didn't tell him what he did and didn't do well during the match as she sat on the bench in the ice baths. They both knew that he had played his best tennis today and there was nothing to be said about that, but then again, before they had just been friends spending time together; now, it was a little jarring to think that she was there with a _champion_. That she knew someone so amazing—so _talented_ —that he could stand at the top of this particular sport against people around the world was just...a boggling thought.

"So this is it. This is the last time we'll be here together," Sakuno stated as she leaned back on her hands, having finally stopped raving about the finals match. She took in the sight around her. There was nobody else in room today since there were very few matches going on the last day of the tournament. It was kind of strange to see the place so empty and she was sad this was likely the last time she would ever see it.

"Is it?" Ryoma asked, raising an eyebrow.

She looked at him quizzically. "Isn't it?"

He snickered at her inquiry as if he knew something that she didn't and shook his head. "The men's final is starting in about half an hour. Come watch it with me."

Sakuno blinked, not really sure where that had come from, but she nodded in response. "O-okay, but Ryoma-kun, aren't you hungry? You haven't eaten since—"

"I'll grab something to eat from the vendors," he interrupted her as he stood up from the bath and grabbed his towel. "If I'm going to shower before the final, we need to go now. I'd rather not be late to a good match."

As he dried himself, she couldn't help but feel disappointed that Ryoma had ended their routine just like that. She'd thought that maybe, just _maybe_ , this arrangement they'd formed together would mean as much to him as it meant to her, but really, it was kind of a foolish thing to hope for when she remembered the person she was expecting it from. Being sentimental was really not part of Ryoma's personality. Brushing it off, she followed him out of the room as he pulled a clean shirt over his head. They would leave New York tomorrow and Sakuno didn't intend to spend her last day sulking like she'd done on her first.

* * *

They were not late to the final at all. In fact, even with them stopping to get food, they still got some of the best seats in the house. Why? Because the top player in Japan, Nishikori Kai, was playing in the final and he had apparently invited Ryoma to come sit in his box. Nanjirō, Ryoga, and her grandmother had joined them as well, Nishikori's team being very receptive and welcoming to all of them.

"Kai really feels like Ryoma is the future of Japanese tennis," Nishikori's Chinese coach had said to them in English (which her grandmother had translated for her), also telling them Kai hoped to see some great tennis from Ryoga as well.

It was seriously high praise from a man who was one of the top ten tennis players in the world, and once again, Sakuno was reminded of how talented Ryoma really was. This was a man who was all the rage in Japan right now and he was inviting Ryoma and his team to come sit in his box. The thoughts about Ryoma being a big deal that had slipped into the back of her mind were coming back in full force as she sat down. Tomorrow, everything would go back to normal. She would be a regular high school student again with no place on Ryoma's team and no reason to be around such massive ability.

She glanced briefly at Ryoma who was sitting next to her, eating a hot dog like a rebel since there was no need for him to keep being on such a strict diet for the day. This man would keep pushing his limits and rise to the top of the tennis world, because that was what he was good at. That was what he was passionate about and would never give up on. Sakuno loved tennis a lot too, but not in the same way he did. There wasn't really _anything_ that she cared about in the same way.

"Nishikori's backhand return off the serve is amazing," Ryoma mumbled, looking riveted by the match so far which appeared to be just as evenly matched as his had been.

Seeing these men in action, Sakuno had to admit that they were far better than Ryoma right now. Junior tennis, while still entertaining and gut wrenching for those emotionally invested, was just not as intense. It was easy to see how much more refined the tennis was, with a few more years of practice and experience under their belts. Down the road, Ryoma would surely be just as good.

"It's a good match," he commented during the changeover. "It's a _great_ match."

"It is," Sakuno agreed, not having much else to say. It was one set all after a crazy hour and a half that had everyone on the edge of their seats.

He tugged his hat down a little. "I'm going to beat him someday. Nishikori Kai..."

Sakuno looked at him, his expression determined and eyes full of fire. Ryoma knew exactly what he wanted to work towards in life, and as much as she loved him, it made her really, really jealous.

"Ne, Ryoma-kun, is that what you want to accomplish in tennis? To beat all the top players?" she asked. She'd heard from her grandmother that Nanjirō had wanted something like that when he was younger, so maybe Ryoma had the same ambition.

He chuckled at her suggestion. "You're thinking too small, Ryūzaki," Ryoma told her, crumpling his now empty napkin into his fist as his passion for the sport shone through brilliantly. "I'll defeat Nishikori, I'll defeat his opponent, and I'll defeat everyone else, including my stupid old man, but I'm not going to stop there. I'm not going to stop until I'm standing, uncontested, at the top."

Ryoma smirked confidently. "I'm going to be the greatest of all time."

She smiled at his confidence and conviction before looking down at the court at the two players resting on their respective benches. They both wanted to be the greatest tennis player of all time too, no doubt. Otherwise, there would be no reason for them to be putting hours and hours of their lives and effort into this sport.

"I think it's amazing that you know what you want to do with your life," she said as she stared down at her thighs, unsure if she wanted to be making eye contact with Ryoma when she knew she was leaving her feelings so exposed. At the same time, it just felt like something she could confide in him on their last day here together. "I...really have no idea what I want to do. We're already in our second year of high school, and soon we'll be graduating, but where I go from there...I don't know."

She fiddled with one of her braids nervously, uncertain of what she should even expect from Ryoma in response. "Growing up seems to be happening so quickly and being in your world made me realize that I don't know _where_ I want to fit in when I'm older, so when you gave me a job...invited me to be part of your team, it felt really good."

"Then why are you acting like it's over?" he asked as if it wasn't. Her head whipped around to look at him; he always had a way of getting her attention by catching her off-guard.

"Well, the tournament's over," she said, because obviously it was.

The male pulled his hat over his eyes as the sun blared down on them. "It's one tournament. I play in a lot of them."

She still didn't understand where he was going with this. "Yes, you do..."

Ryoma sighed, crumpling the napkin from holding his hot dog, seemingly a little frustrated, and tossed it at her head. She squeaked and flinched as it bounced off her temple onto the ground. When she opened her eyes again, she realized that Ryoma had narrowed his gaze on her and somehow trapped her in the vulnerable place she'd been trying to avoid.

"I'm _saying_ ," he emphasized, now demanding her full attention, "that you're a part of my team. So even if you're lost, you'll always have a place with me until you find your own way."

Sakuno stared at him for a moment, speechless and trying to gather her words, because of all things Ryoma could've said, she really hadn't been expecting that. She opened her mouth to say something—anything, really—but the players on the court were back at the baseline to begin the next game and she had no choice but to leave Ryoma with the last word.

It was hard to focus on the match after that. Even though she knew there were some fantastic points going on, she couldn't enjoy them as much as she should have. This was something she had been worrying about for the entire duration of the trip, and here was Ryoma dismissing it like it was nothing. He was offering her a chance to help him reach his dreams while she found her own, a way out of a maze she wasn't ready to navigate.

She...she hadn't thought that she was allowed more time to figure things out. She thought she'd go into her last year of high school and just get swept away by everything she was supposed to do. Instead, she was being invited into Ryoma's life, and she realized that maybe that was exactly what she'd been doing this entire trip. Sakuno had admitted to him that coming to New York just made her feel out of place and he'd immediately changed that. She got to experience what his life would be like firsthand, seeing how hard he worked and how strict he was with himself. She got to share her love of tennis with a person who loved the sport even more than she did. She was the one who got to see his real emotions after each match—something even his family didn't have the privilege of seeing. She had a place with _him_ , and she didn't have to give that up.

She was lucky, she knew, to have someone like Ryoma in her life. The passion and dedication he put into tennis was so strong that she could _feel_ it, and it always served as an inspiration to her. There were so many girls back at home that loved Ryoma for his looks or his talents, but she found much more appreciation for the fire he held inside. Beside him, Sakuno felt confident that she could find something in her life that would make that same fire burn within her.

A thought hit her just as the next changeover began. Everything had been happening so fast that she had completely forgotten that she had prepared a gift for Ryoma, win or lose in the final. Fortunately, it was the former, and that made giving him this gift more a present of congratulation rather than a consolation prize.

"I almost forgot, Ryoma-kun, but I have something for you. Congratulations on winning the US Open junior championship," Sakuno said as she pulled out a bottle of Fanta from her bag. "It might be a little warm since I've been carrying it around all day, but—"

" _Thanks,_ " he interjected before she could say anything else. He took the soft drink from her immediately, unscrewing the cap and taking a sip. He let his head drop back in satisfaction. "I haven't had one in weeks."

"I know. And since this is your last big tournament for awhile, I thought it'd be okay," she explained, smiling at his eagerness to have his favourite drink. When Ryoma had seriously started attending bigger tournaments on the regular, his diet had gotten much more strict. That meant his constant consumption of Fanta had gone right out the window because tennis was more important. Sakuno thought it would be the best thing she could get him on short notice.

And though she'd finally given him the present she'd gotten for him, Sakuno knew she still hadn't said anything in reply to his earlier statement. She had to. He was giving her a place to belong for as long as she needed it, and that meant more to her than words could ever describe.

"Ryoma-kun, I just... Thank you," she said quietly, still unsure of what to say. "You're a really good friend."

"Friend?" The corner of his mouth turned upwards in a smirk. "Is that all you think we are, Sakuno?"

She mentally stumbled at the use of her first name, then froze completely after a few more seconds of processing his words. She didn't understand what he was implying—or she did and just didn't _believe_ what he was implying at all. And, of course, the umpire called time on the changeover break right as she was going to ask him to clarify.

Instead of being rude to the players below, she let the question die on her tongue, stealing one last glance at Ryoma, who was nonchalantly sipping his Fanta like he hadn't said anything out of the ordinary. Sakuno let it go and turned her attention forward to focus on the match.

She had all the time in the world to figure it out anyway.


End file.
